


The Sacrifice and the Saint

by crowbeau



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Marking, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 00:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19800712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowbeau/pseuds/crowbeau
Summary: Kiran finds herself frustrated with Grima's unwillingness to obey her commands on the battlefield.  Desperate for a change, she suggests they make a deal.  Grima looks forward to taking full advantage.





	The Sacrifice and the Saint

**Author's Note:**

> uh not much to say,,, im a dragonfucker, what else is new? (and yeah i know the title is from sov but i do think it fits these idiots too soooooooo)
> 
> i should give a brief warning here that there is a small mention of breeding/mating there towards the end; its not a big thing but if that's a Major thing for any of you, this is just a friendly warning! <3
> 
> all that aside, enjoy!

“You got Seliph killed last battle.”

It wasn’t a question, merely a statement laden with disapproval. The Fell Dragon seemed unperturbed by this mild inconvenience of a Summoner who’d placed herself between him and the book he’d been studying in Askr’s wide library.

They were the only two present.

“I was not the one who sentenced him to die,” Grima reminded, disinterested.

Kiran clenched her fists quietly at her sides—it was the only evidence that his blasé attitude irritated her.

“If you had done as I’d commanded, he would’ve been out of danger,” she said evenly.

“Ah. Mistake on your part then, it seems, Lady Summoner.”

“Don’t screw with me.”

Grima peeled back his lips and gave Kiran what scarcely qualified as a grin.

“You’ve been lucky so far,” he said, “every Hero you’ve summoned has graciously pledged themselves to your cause. I, however, did not ask to be brought here. I am no Hero and I do not intend to become one just because you command it.”

Kiran let out a sigh and turned, flinging Grima’s tome from the table. It spun across the smooth wood and tumbled onto the floor with a dull thump, the sound of the impact muted by the ornate Askran rug underfoot. The Summoner perched on the edge of the table and frowned down at Grima from beneath the shadow of her hood.

“Alright then,” she said stoutly, “surely there’s _something_ I can do to change your mind. Only a fool would keep a power like yours side-lined.”

Grima seemed pleased that she’d acknowledged his strength; it had been a long time since anyone had so casually noted it.

“You admit you desire my power for yourself?”

Kiran studied him from beneath the cover of her hood.

“I want to add your strength to my arsenal,” she allowed with a shrug, “it only makes sense. The other dragons could benefit from your contributions in battle, as could our armoured allies.”

Grima watched her quietly, curious.

“Not to mention,” Kiran added, somewhat hesitant, “I’d appreciate your cooperation when we face our foes; I don’t like botched battles.”

The Fell Dragon was amused by this admission; he fought the urge to toss back Kiran’s hood, to expose her face so he could see the soft embarrassment in her expression. And, perhaps, to push her a bit closer to humiliation.

“Surely you can understand that,” Kiran said.

“You mentioned giving me something,” said Grima, “you want to propose a… treaty of sorts?”

“If you wanna put it like that, sure.”

Grima nodded slowly, considering.

“I see,” he said, “what is your offer then, Lady Summoner?”

Kiran studied him for a moment. 

“You yearn for worshippers, yeah?” the Summoner said finally.

Grima stared at her.

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting her to say, but that had not been it.

“I-, yes,” he said, hoping the Summoner hadn’t noticed his minute surprise, “I want to return to my former glory by… any means possible. Having servants would certainly-,”

“I’ll do it.”

Grima blinked at her.

“What did you just say?”

Kiran slipped from the table and came to stand before the Fell Dragon.

“That’s what I’m offering,” she said, straightening, “I’ll worship you. Lord Grima.”

There was a silence that hung between them for a long moment as Grima took in this startling new information.

Kiran was motionless before him.

“Small child,” said Grima, getting to a slow stand and towering over her, “you are so young and so very foolish. You haven’t the slightest _idea_ what you’re offering. To become my servant is to offer up every part of yourself without complaint.”

Kiran lifted her head and looked up into his face. The Fell Dragon was just able to see her pale chin peeking out from beneath the shadow of her hood.

“I’m prepared to make that sacrifice,” said Kiran.

Grima snorted, amused.

“You are not,” he said, “though you may think you are.”

“Try me.”

Kiran had goaded him on intentionally, determined to get the result she desired; she needed Grima’s alliance. And yet still, despite all her efforts to prepare for his volatility, they were useless in the face of Grima’s own desire. 

The Fell Dragon descended upon Kiran as though he’d been merely waiting for an invitation to devour her. He took the Summoner roughly by the arms, claws digging into the rough fabric of her garb as he manoeuvred her backwards. Kiran stumbled unsteadily until she was pressed back against one of the narrow stone walls. 

“Grima-,”

“That’s ‘ _Lord_ Grima’ to you,” he all but growled, voice gruff against the weighty fabric of the Summoner’s hood over her ear.

Kiran bowed her head wordlessly; perhaps Grima’s comment that she was unfit for servitude had some merit after all. 

The Fell Dragon crooked his neck and inhaled Kiran’s scent slowly.

“Your apprehension, your anxiety, that undiluted aroma of _fear_ ,” breathed Grima, “you are going to be delicious.”

Kiran opened her mouth to reply but the Fell Dragon was already covering it with his own. Grima’s teeth clacked against the Summoner’s and she winced at the sensation until he eased her discomfort with a swipe of his tongue.

“With time, I am certain,” Grima rasped when he withdrew, “that I will make you a perfect worshipper.”

The Summoner dropped her gaze, beginning to wonder if she should’ve volunteered some different sort of service to this reincarnated draconic god.

_Probably._

“Though I like this song and dance we’re doing,” said Grima, tracing the curve of Kiran’s hip before squeezing the meat of her thigh, “I don’t want you scrambling off before I’m done with you, Lady Summoner.”

Kiran squinted at him from beneath the shadow of her hood.

“What do you-,”

“It would bring me no greater pleasure than to take you here and now. I want nothing more than to lay claim to your mortal body and conquer it as my own. And what better place than here, where any passer-by may witness your fall into depravity?”

Kiran clicked her tongue in distaste on reflex, momentarily forgetting that she had, in fact, pledged all parts of herself to the Fell Dragon and truly had no reason to argue against his suggestion. Grima, however, seemed merely amused by this reaction. A twisted grin played at his lips before he swiped it away with his tongue.

“I can’t say getting fucked in the library is on my top ten-,”

“Then I will take you in the privacy of your chambers, Lady Summoner,” interrupted Grima, who was already spinning to leave before Kiran had even registered his words.

The Summoner blinked, taken aback by the Fell Dragon’s confidence. Then again, recalling this was likely no more than a mere business transaction for him, Kiran supposed his behaviour was not so strange.

***

Kiran fumbled with the lock on her chamber door, damned hands shaking with an uncharacteristic apprehension.

“Summoner,” hissed Grima, and his noxious Fell breath was uncomfortably hot, even through the layers of Summoning garb, “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Kiran nodded, already quite aware of this.

“I-, I know. I don’t mean to-, it’s just-, my goddamn fingers. They-,” she paused and laughed uncertainly.

The Fell Dragon eased one arm around the Summoner’s waist, pulling her closer to him as he deftly locked the door with his free hand.

“I want to see you,” he said, seeming to have ignored Kiran’s earlier worry entirely.

The Summoner felt an odd sense of relief at that. And immediately, at the prospect of revealing her face to Grima, her relief was once again replaced with panic.

As though sensing this, Grima simply pulled her along wordlessly in the direction of the bed.

“Grima-,”

“It’s ‘Lord Grima,’” the Fell Dragon corrected easily as he slouched down upon Kiran’s heavy duvet.

The Summoner perched at his side, fists clenched atop her thighs; where in the world was this heading?

“Lord Grima, then,” said Kiran.

The Fell Dragon reached over and slowly pushed her hood from her face, letting the fabric pool across her shoulders. 

Kiran’s giant snowy braid spilled down from atop her head and she refused to meet Grima’s gaze. He put his hand to her chin and tipped her head so that he could study her face. A splash of freckles sat across her nose. The Fell Dragon recalled a time, back when he’d still been permitted to traverse outdoors, when he too, had had-,

“Disrobe,” he growled, and the venom in his tone made Kiran leap to a stand like a startled cat.

She ducked away from him and hurriedly shrugged out of her Summoner’s cloak.

“I-, did not mean to-, it was not my intention to frighten you, Lady Summoner.”

Kiran laughed uncertainly, “No, it’s alright. I’m not-, it’s not your fault. Besides, I agreed to this. Getting nervous about showing my face-, that’s just stupid, ya’ know?”

Something in her tone made a long-forgotten rage begin its slow unravel within Grima’s chest. He reached over and took her hand in his own.

“Summoner,” he said.

“Yes, Lord Grima?”

The Fell dragon squeezed Kiran’s hand and then he sighed.

“Don’t,” he said.

Kiran blinked, “I-, I don’t understand-,”

“Don’t call me that.”

“But just a second ago, you said-,”

“I know!” Grima hissed, “I know. But it-,”

He trailed off, groaned, and then shook his head.

“It simply feels-, I-, I don’t know, _wrong_. It’s not-, it’s not the same. It’s strange, you calling me that. Once, I would’ve revelled in that, in praises _sung_ from the lips of my followers-, my name like their prayer-!”

“But-?”

“But… this is different. I-, you’re not like them. You’re-,” he squinted, shook his hands emphatically as though he could magically manifest the proper words.

Kiran studied him quietly, unsure what had brought such an admission on.

“You’re-, like me,” breathed Grima, turning to stare at her.

The Summoner blinked again; there was absolutely nothing in common between them.

“You’ve been taken from your home, taken out of time, used-, _weaponised_ -!”

“No, no, I haven’t been-,” Kiran shook her head, “I’m not-, the Order isn’t using me-,”

“Aren’t they though?” whispered Grima, and he took the Summoner roughly by the shoulder so that she faced him.

There was such a sad wildness in his eyes.

“Grima-,”

“Why are we here, Summoner?” he asked, voice soft with uncharacteristic desperation.

Kiran blinked and bit her lip, unsure of how to respond.

“What are we _doing_? Is there a purpose to be found in all this?”

“We fight for peace-,” she began but Grima snorted, silencing her.

“Enough with that now, Summoner,” he all but growled, “there’s no point in putting on that pacifist front with me.”

“It’s not a-,”

“Hush,” said Grima, “and let me claim you.”

Kiran pinked at the words and the Fell Dragon pulled her to his chest, inhaling her scent wordlessly.

“Grima-,”

“ _Yes_ ,” he breathed, and Kiran’s eyes fluttered closed as his lips brushed against the pale skin at her throat, “say my name just like that, softly. Tenderly.”

The Summoner blinked, momentarily drawn back despite the way the Fell Dragon’s mouth worked against her neck. His teeth dragged across her bare skin teasingly but he seemed more eager to press kisses across her like a traveller pins a map.

“Tenderly-,” Kiran echoed thoughtfully; was his true desire simply to be loved?

Maybe this had begun as a business transaction—a Summoner who swore to make herself available to him whenever Grima wanted an outlet—but the reality was more complex than that; perhaps it was not control that the Fell Dragon yearned for, but rather-,

“Grima-,” began Kiran, though she was unsure how to approach the inquiry.

If she was too blunt, she was certain the Fell Dragon would shy away in an attempt to keep his pride.

“Merely reminiscing,” Grima murmured, “nothing more. Let’s get down to business.”

The Summoner opened her mouth to reply but Grima knocked the wind out of her as he shoved her back against the sheets.

Her eyes went wide and she gasped soundlessly beneath the Fell Dragon. Grima’s forked tongue swept across his bottom lip as he took in the sight of her, flushed and uncharacteristically shy.

“At last,” he said, “I can see this Summoner’s true colours. Nothing will bring me greater joy than this conquest. I really ought to thank you, Lady Summoner, for such a perfect opportunity.”

The Fell Dragon’s claws dug into Kiran’s pale wrists and she writhed beneath him, uncomfortable with him bearing down upon her, gaze unflinching. Grima shoved a knee between hers and put his nose to her throat, inhaling the soft scent right above her hammering pulse.

“Is this excitement that sings within you?” he wondered against her skin.

Before Kiran could answer, Grima opened his mouth and bit into her neck, marking her with enough force to draw blood. The Summoner gasped against the pain, shuddering as Grima ran his tongue along the mark, admiring his own work with a satisfied hum.

“Grima-,” Kiran murmured, clenching and unclenching her fists as he continued to work his mouth against her throat.

Seeming to give in to some minute desperation, the Fell Dragon sucked a dark mark—followed by another and then a third—at Kiran’s neck and she tossed her head back at the sensation, electrified by such ministrations.

Grima finally withdrew, swiping a stray bead of saliva from his bottom lip as he studied her again, revelling in her half-lidded expression, lips parted softly in surrender. He kneaded a clawed hand in the loose fabric of her trousers thoughtfully.

“You are so very commanding on the battlefield,” said Grima, “who knew that you were so deliciously soft in bed?”

When Kiran didn’t answer, the Fell Dragon paused again to study her quietly.

“ _Does_ anyone know?” he asked.

There was a sliver of challenge in his voice; he wanted to know if Kiran had slept with any of the others aside from him.

“N-no-,” she said, finally registering his question, “no one else has-, seen me like this.”

Grima took in this information. And then a slow, triumphant smile spread across his face.

“Very good,” he said, “keep it that way.”

The Fell Dragon hummed, his gaze raking down Kiran’s form beneath him as he contemplated his next move.

“Too many layers…” he mumbled, more to himself than to the Summoner.

Regardless, Kiran reached up and undid the first few clasps of her Summoning garb, letting the tunic fall open across her chest.

At the sight of her bare breasts, Grima took a sharp inhale; it had been a long while since he’d been-, since he’d done-,

“Grima?” Kiran prompted, blush flooding her cheeks at his non-reaction.

She was beginning to feel a bit foolish now.

The Fell Dragon leant back and shucked off his tactician’s robe, letting it slip from the bed and onto the floor.

“O-, kay,” said Kiran, surprised by his urgency, “I guess we’re stripping now-?”

“Yes, yes,” hissed Grima, impatient, “strip bare, Lady Summoner. I need to feel you.”

At that admission—was it?—Kiran felt the colour rush back to her cheeks; she hadn’t expected this intimidating creature to be so-,

Grima clambered from atop the Summoner and righted himself at the bedside, dropping his trousers without an ounce of shame. Kiran hoped she wasn’t visibly staring as she shed her own layers, gaze drifting down to the Fell Dragon’s cock.

It seemed that some part of him, at least, was eager to bed her.

There were plenty of times before this moment where Grima had been naked; it was strange, however, for him to have undressed himself this time.

Kiran was obviously eager to do as she’d been commanded, even if a bit unsure. Grima found himself in uncharacteristic support of her as he quietly watched her spindly fingers deftly unbuckle the harnesses of her Summoner’s belt.

“Summoner,” he drawled, “I don’t mean to rush you, but do recall that patience is not a virtue when it comes to us dragons.”

Kiran let her belt fall to the ground, the sound of it muted by the heavy rug beneath her bare feet. She hefted her tunic over her head and flung it to the floor with a quiet breath of relief; something about such a genuine response made a long-forgotten warmth flicker in Grima’s chest. He did not like that one bit.

Before the Fell Dragon could scrutinise the budding emotion in his heart, however, Kiran came to the edge of the bed. Grima studied her again as she stood before him in only her panties.

“And these?” he asked, sitting up slowly and slipping his finger into her waistband.

“Well. I-,”

Kiran narrowed her gaze.

“Having second thoughts, Lady Summoner?”

“No, no, nothing like that. I don’t go back on my word that easily. Goodness, Lord Grima. I’m not that flaky.”

“I pray that’s true in more than one way,” the Fell Dragon replied, hooking his arm around her middle and pulling Kiran atop him.

She seemed startled by the motion, clumsy above him.

“My knees are gonna fall asleep,” she acknowledged, too distracted by it to realise what a silly thing she’d said.

When she did, she pinked and stumbled to correct it.

Grima just patted her thigh.

“You’re getting too worked up over this,” he said, reclining beneath her, “I will not be displeased by you.”

“You can’t know that,” said Kiran.

Grima shrugged.

“I’m intrigued by you,” he said, shifting the subject as he saw fit, “and the fact that you’re so willing to subject yourself to my every whim… I have no true authority over you. Not like-,”

He paused. A brief memory—was it?—crossed his mind and he recalled being in Kiran’s very position; though he’d been in the lap of a certain Risen King.

“Not like the Risen,” he said, hoping she hadn’t noticed his pause, “not like the Grimleal.”

Kiran narrowed her gaze and Grima realised she’d detected his minute reminiscing, even if she said nothing.

“You’re suggesting… that my free will excites you?” she asked instead.

The Fell Dragon blinked, silent as her words registered. And then he flashed her a quick grin.

“There’s that clever Summoner, twisting my words to suit yourself. And you say we’re not so similar…”

Kiran shrugged, “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Instead of honouring her with a response—with the admission that she was right on the mark—Grima opted to switch their positions, marvelling at the way Kiran surrendered herself beneath him.

“You’re learning,” he murmured, pleased, “that’s good.”

The Summoner pinked at the praise and Grima flashed another grin.

“Now then,” he said, “what’ll it be, Summoner?”

“You’re the one who wanted this,” Kiran reminded, “the choice is yours.”

“Yes,” agreed Grima, “yet you seem to have some reservations.”

One of his clawed fingers returned to the waistband of her panties and Kiran looked away.

“I do not particularly care if you continue to wear these or not,” the Fell Dragon said honestly, “but once again, Lady Summoner, I must remind you that restraint is not my strong suit.”

Kiran took in a quick breath and then pushed herself up on her elbows, breath tickling the shell of Grima’s ear.

“Alright then,” she murmured, voice deliciously low, “if that’s how you feel, then won’t you take them off for me, Lord Grima?”

A low groan scratched its way up the Fell Dragon’s throat as he sank downwards, settling between Kiran’s thighs. He puffed out a shaky breath against her inner thigh as he hooked his thumbs beneath the worn cotton fabric of her panties.

“Use your teeth,” said Kiran tartly, just to see how many commands the dragon would obey, “and be careful not to bite.”

Grima shuddered beneath the order and the Summoner wondered if his earlier comments had been nothing but a front; had he truly desired to be commanded?

Before she could consider it further, Kiran felt Grima growl against her bare skin as his fangs dug into the waistband of her panties. The Summoner tensed, waiting for a sting of pain. But Grima’s teeth only ghosted across her hip as he pulled the fabric low.

“Good dragon,” murmured Kiran, running her spindly fingers through his snowy hair.

Though the movement was miniscule, there was no denying that the Fell Dragon had nestled closer, eager for more of that gentle touch.

With Kiran pleased, Grima yanked her panties the rest of the way down her legs and tossed them into the growing pile of discarded garments.

Before the Summoner could say much else, Grima returned to his place between her thighs, shoving her legs apart so he could swipe a quick lick at her entrance.

Kiran gasped at the attention, shuddering as the Fell Dragon’s hot tongue laved shallowly into her.

“Grima-,” she hissed, “what’s-,”

The Fell Dragon raised his head slowly, studying Kiran from this new angle.

“I have been pleasured by others for as long as I can remember,” he commented, “and despite my earlier statements, I think I much prefer to keep you separate from all that.”

Kiran frowned at him, not quite comprehending.

“You are different from the Grimleal,” Grima elaborated, more to himself than to the Summoner, “I do not want you to be like them.”

“Then I won’t be,” said Kiran.

Grima looked up into her face.

“Even saying that, I cannot be sure that I won’t simply-,”

“I want this,” said Kiran, “I want you to have your way with me, Grima.”

The Fell Dragon blinked slowly at her as the words registered. And then he took a shuddering breath; that sort of determined desire mingling with such obvious submission was a deliciously lethal combination.

Kiran gasped again when Grima pushed her back against the bed, pupils blown wide as her head lolled to the side, revealing the heavy mark he’d made at her neck earlier.

“ _Yes_ -,” he breathed, “all mine-,”

The Summoner put a hand to the back of Grima’s head, pulling him down so she could capture his lips in an open-mouthed kiss. The Fell Dragon let out a pleased sound at the attention, eagerly licking between her lips, tracing her blunt teeth with his tongue.

As Kiran huffed against his mouth, breaths coming quickly, Grima reached down to press a finger into her. At the attention, the Summoner bucked her hips.

The Fell Dragon seemed startled by such eagerness.

“C’mon then,” Kiran murmured, ducking past his chin to press a slow kiss to Grima’s exposed neck, “fuck me, Dragon.”

At the words, the Fell Dragon’s finger stopped its movement and he stared down into Kiran’s face, speechless. She blinked, wondering if she’d said something wrong. But then Grima’s six lavender wings burst into existence, iridescent feathers drifting across the bed sheets.

The Fell Dragon blinked at her.

“Does that-, usually happen?” Kiran asked, uncertain of what to say.

“I am not one to pre-wing,” was Grima’s answer.

The Summoner bit the inside of her cheek to stop the smile that had risen to her lips once she realised what he meant.

“Oh, well,” she said, “I’ll try to remember that.”

Her grin didn’t last long, however, as Grima was quick to reward her smugness with a second finger. Kiran’s smile dropped as she gasped and the Fell Dragon chuckled.

“Oh, yes,” he murmured, “much better. I enjoy seeing you like this, Summoner. This raw emotion-,”

Kiran dug her fingernails into the skin at Grima’s elbow and he flashed her a grin.

“You’re like an animal,” he hissed, “I love it.”

Before the Summoner could spit out another quip, Grima withdrew his fingers and put his hand to his cock, stroking himself slowly as he took in the sight of her.

Kiran’s gaze drifted down and she watched him with unabashed intrigue. Somehow, that made it all the better. Grima’s need pooled, hot and heavy in his stomach and he slowed the motion of his hand; to spill himself anywhere but inside the Summoner would be a waste.

Seeming to sense the both of them were now adequately prepared, Kiran scrambled over to the edge of the bed, dipping one hand into her bedside table drawer.

Grima wetted the tip of his thumb against his tongue before lowering his hand and smearing the beading precum across the head of his cock.

The Summoner’s breath caught in her throat and she nearly dropped her oil tin. Grima flashed her another grin.

“If you’re so eager, do this yourself,” Kiran snapped, minutely annoyed by the Fell Dragon’s smug smile.

Grima took her roughly by the arm and pulled her close.

“I’d rather you do it for me,” he all but growled, “I’ll teach you what I like.”

At the unspoken promise of many similar future endeavours, the Summoner shivered. Grima seemed pleased by it, easing onto his knees atop the sheets as he waited for Kiran to touch him.

She slathered oil across one palm before lowering her hand to the Fell Dragon’s weeping cock. He gazed at her, watching blush dust across her face as she slowly pumped her fingers up and down his length. Her breaths came shallowly and Grima wondered momentarily if he was not the only one aroused by the way she touched him.

“ _Grima_ -,” Kiran hissed finally, “do you expect me to do this all day?”

Her words should’ve been accompanied by a thorn of annoyance but all the Fell Dragon heard was impatience and desperation.

“Do I sense a slight neediness from you, Lady Summoner?”

Kiran’s cheeks darkened and she released her grip on Grima’s cock, reeling back as though his words had physically repelled her.

“I’m now inclined to believe you may be interested in mating with me, you know.”

The Summoner opened her mouth as though to reply and then simply shut it without a word.

Grima watched her, genuinely curious as to her reaction to his words. She blinked. He blinked back.

“ _What_ did you just fucking say to me?”

Grima reached out, pressed Kiran back against the mattress, and gazed down into her face. Her eyes were wide as she stared up at him in the silence.

“I’m curious,” he said, “what this will do to you. If we keep this up, Lady Summoner, I do wonder… will you want to mate with me?”

Kiran was readying a reply when Grima clicked his tongue with a shrug.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve finally run out of patience.”

“Wha-,”

The rest of the Summoner’s sentence fell to a gasp as Grima shoved her legs apart and lined himself up.

“Don’t you think I should get a little more prep _ared_ -,” Kiran choked on the rest of her sentence as the Fell Dragon pressed into her.

He grunted, irritated, until he finally fitted the head of his cock through her entrance.

Kiran gasped again, fists clenching in the sheets as Grima gave an experimental thrust. The movement was shallow but it was enough to send nonsense signals pulsing from her clit.

“Oh _fuck_ -,” the Summoner swore.

Grima took her roughly by the thighs and pulled her closer so he could slot himself deeper into her cunt. A moan clawed its way up Kiran’s throat and she had no choice but to let it escape into the heavy air between them.

The sound of her rising pleasure was enough to have Grima grinning as he fucked her.

“ _Deeper,_ dammit-,” she hissed, impatient as her orgasm began to take shape low in her belly.

“I’m almost impressed,” Grima commented, ignoring her demand, “you’re doing… well, Lady Summoner.”

“The name’s-, Kiran.”

The Fell Dragon ignored her in favour of forcing out another one of her sweet moans. Kiran was powerless to stop him as she began to lose herself to her rising desire.

It did not take long for Grima to release Kiran, allowing her to find her own pace, sucking the Fell Dragon’s cock deeper into her cunt.

Seeing her slowly give in to her need beneath him was more than Grima could have ever wanted; this was so much better than anything he’d ever done with the Grimleal.

This entire endeavour, the way the Summoner was coming apart—leaving no part of herself hidden from view—was enough to have Grima mounting his orgasm in a dizzy rush.

“Grima-,” Kiran pleaded, “please, I-, I need-,”

“Just a bit more,” the Fell Dragon agreed.

Kiran let out a small sigh, relieved that he understood what she needed. 

Grima gave a few more thrusts before leaning in close to the Summoner so he could whisper in her ear.

“I’m going to cum inside, Summoner,” he told her, and relished in the way she gazed up at him with that half-lidded expression.

And as Grima spilled himself within her, Kiran tightened around him, hooking one leg over his back until he was completely spent.

As she met her own orgasm, all the tension left Kiran’s body and she lay completely defenceless beneath the Fell Dragon. 

They were both panting hard. And then Grima gave her another thrust. And then another.

“Gri-Grima-,” Kiran choked out, “what are you-, what are you doing?”

“Surely you didn’t think just one orgasm would be enough to satisfy me, did you, Lady Summoner?”

“I-,”

“C’mon,” said Grima, “be a good girl. I know you’ve got the stamina for a few more rounds.”

Kiran was not so sure. But that didn’t seem to matter, as Grima simply bent and took her from a slightly different angle, cock punching deep into her cunt.

Still recovering from her orgasm, the Summoner had trouble shoving her moans back down her throat and eventually gave in, allowing each of them to slip between her lips.

With each desperate sound, Grima only seemed to get more riled up.

“I’m going to fill you up,” he promised quietly.

And Kiran had no doubt; this was one draconic god who kept promises. 

***

On the fourth orgasm, the Summoner’s expression was beginning to glaze over and she could do little more than let out breathy gasps beneath Grima with each of his thrusts.

“Next time maybe I’ll take you from behind,” the Fell Dragon contemplated as he filled her again.

It was only then that he finally withdrew; there would be no point in trying to banter with the Summoner at this point.

“Or perhaps you should wear just your Summoner’s cloak,” he mused further.

There were many things to be tried. And with Kiran’s agreement, Grima fully intended to try them all.

“I’m so-, _full-_ ,” the Summoner slurred, lifting a hand slowly to feel the slight bump at her stomach.

Grima bent down and kissed her deeply. And then he leant down, breath hot against the shell of her ear.

“I practically bred you,” he murmured.

Kiran twitched beneath him and he raised his head, eager to see her expression.

“Does it feel good?”

The Summoner lifted her hands slowly and embraced Grima, pulling him atop her.

“Yes,” she breathed, and the word sent a jolt of ecstasy through him, “I’ve never felt so full before, Lord Grima.”

Struck speechless, the Fell Dragon simply pressed a kiss to Kiran’s bruised neck, unsure of how to respond; this was not the reaction he’d been anticipating. Exciting, definitely. Just, unexpected.

“Grima,” said Kiran, and he could hear the smug smile in her voice, “are you going to mate with me?”

The Fell Dragon took in a slow inhale, trying to memorise the gentle scent of her; it was strongest right over her pulse.

“I want to,” he said with a rare honesty.

“You _need_ to,” said Kiran, and the truth of her words startled him.

The Summoner merely held him to her chest, cradling his head beneath her chin.

“I want your power,” Kiran reminded, “and if it means mating with you… I guess I don’t mind it.”

“This is no joking matter.”

“I’m not joking.”

Grima sighed. The steady beat of Kiran’s heart beneath his ear was making him sleepy.

“You’re a strange Summoner.”

“You’re a strange dragon.”

The Fell Dragon snorted and shook his head, relaxing atop Kiran. She dragged her fingers lazily through his snowy hair. Grima nuzzled closer, appreciative of her gentleness.

“Become mine,” he breathed, “mate with me, Summoner.”

“The sex was pretty good,” said Kiran, “and you didn’t make fun of my crooked nose.”

Grima wondered why she was saying such strange things.

“What I mean is, you’re not too bad, Fell Dragon.”

He rolled his eyes; she had no idea.

“I wanna see your wings next time.”

Grima kissed her between the breasts.

“Fine,” he said.

He felt Kiran smile.

“Alright. I’m yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> ive been thinking about turning this into a collection of one-shots where grima and kiran just keep doing dumb shit,,, they share one braincell so,,,, i dunno! maybe ill add on to this in the future! 
> 
> thanks for the support though, everyone! i really appreciate it! :>


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